


she dreams of war

by Chamomile



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: “I would gladly follow you to the Seventh Hell.”Merlwyb holds back a laugh or two, “You, in the Seventh Hell? I highly doubt that.”“What value is there in dying if I cannot follow my companions?” Kan-E surprises herself with the question, smiling all the same, “What good will the heavens do me if you are not there by my side?”(No matter the chaos, they are always drawn to each other. Reflections of the past, the present, and a looming future. Takes place around the events of patch 4.5.)





	she dreams of war

Kan-E always brought a book or two along with her to Alliance meetings abroad. They were little pieces of home she could take with her wherever she went—a comfort that, however small it might have been, eased her worries considerably.

It was for those same reasons that she brought a few extra tomes with her to the Ghimlyt Dark. Even if she hadn’t the time to sit and read them, they would lie there on her makeshift desk and remain there, no matter what chaos occurred outside.

She’s never been too particular about which ones she’s brought before. But something this time compelled her to take three books of the same genre…three books, she would add, she has already read several times. They were a saga of romances written in poetry, tales of heroes and heroines, knights and maidens…things Raya-O always used to talk about with her when they were still free to wander the Twelveswood together, years ago.

In the back of her mind, a memory comes rushing back of her and Raya-O, the two of them reading and laughing in a grove:

_“Do you suppose we’ll ever get the chance to fall in love, Kan-E?” her younger sister had asked, her eyes wide and full of hope._

_“Our duties must come first,” Kan-E had answered her at the time, “Nophica has blessed us with the love of our people, and—“_

_“Bountiful though Her love may be, I do not speak of Nophica’s love,” Raya-O huffed, “I speak of Menphina’s.”_

_Kan-E answered her with a stern look and silence. The smiles faded from both their faces as the tension between them grew. Of course she knew which manner of love her sister spoke. She simply did not have the heart to deny her._

_“…Our duty does not mix well with wedding vows, I know,” Raya-O had sighed at her silent sibling, “The Elementals did not choose us so we could live as Gridanians do. But does it not stir your heart?”_

_“What, exactly?” Kan-E asked._

_“Why, all of it!” Raya-O replied, “The moment the knight and his lady know they are destined to be with one another, their first kiss, their eternal vows… If I were to be courted by such a gentleman, then—“_

_“You shall not,” Kan-E closed the book, “Nor shall I.”_

_Raya-O pouted, forlorn, “Have any of the Great Ones ever told you just how dull you are, sister? I do not recall any such clause in the Pact of Gelmorra that forbids us from falling in love.”_

_“While that may be true,” Kan-E began, “We’ve not received their express permission, either. It would be best to err on the side of caution. I wish no harm to come to you, and--”_

_“Yes, yes, I know,” Raya-O began pulling at one of her pigtails, anxious, “I shall not get my own world and these fictional worlds confused for one another.”_

_Kan-E nodded, “Perhaps we should have brought more books on conjury from Stillglade Fane…“_

_“Gods, no, we’ve had our fill of those for the next hundred years,” sighed Raya-O, who paused a moment. The tone of her voice changed as she asked the next question._

_“…Have you ever had to give up someone you loved for your duty, Kan-E? Is that why you scold me so?”_

_The simple thought of it made Kan-E’s face go red. At the time, she could not even fathom what it would be like to be held in someone else’s arms or confessed to by some suitor._

_“I do not think I would be comfortable in the embrace of any man,” Kan-E answered back, quickly as she could, “It would be unbecoming—nay, unrealistic— for an Elder Seedseer to act on her passions.”_

_“A woman, then?”_

_“I-I beg your pardon?” Kan-E blinked._

_“Would you be more comfortable in the arms of another woman?”_

_She raised an eyebrow, taken aback by such an odd question. She had never considered that possibility, either._

_“…This conversation is ended,” Kan-E replied, standing up and brushing herself off from the grass, still red-faced._

_“I am simply_ asking! _” Raya-O nearly jumped out of the grass, “There is no need to be embarrassed of it! The elementals certainly do not care for such details, as long as the intention is pure! Why, then, should we? Times are changing for both Gridanian and Padjal, Kan-E. There may be little precedent for the cause, but perhaps our generation can—”_

 _“I_ said— _“_

_“Fine, then,” scowled Raya-O, brushing herself off, “I shall trade the tomes when next we travel to Stillglade Fane. And worry you not: I shall search for something so utterly mind-numbing that even someone as dull as you shall be wanting to talk of love again.”_

_Kan-E never did give her the satisfaction, unfortunately. Once chaos struck the Twelveswood and the Order of the Twin Adder had formed, the two of them never spoke of Menphina’s love again. Duty called them to other places, for other tasks, until a whole six years had passed without Raya-O ever truly knowing if she could one day become a bride…and without Kan-E ever knowing if the Padjal had the capacity to be loved in such a way._

But she still remembers Raya-O’s question clearly after all this time. Now, more than ever, Kan-E wishes they had finished that conversation.

Perhaps then she would have known what to do when her long friendship with Admiral Merlwyb had wandered off someplace it shouldn’t have.

She should clarify: she has _known_ the Admiral for nigh on six years, but she has not felt this way until quite recently. Before and after the Calamity, the Alliance was so caught up with their own duties that the pair had never once considered themselves so much as acquaintances. In the years that followed, however, the two realized that they had more in common than they originally thought. They learned from each other, grew stronger together, and each Alliance meeting, the two of them would find opportunities to catch up, which, they found, was far more comforting than any letter or linkpearl could ever be.

Raubahn and Nanamo, who had been with them from the start, immediately caught on, the latter always insisting that the two spend more time together when their busy schedules allowed it. A trusted partner within the Alliance is a blessing indeed, insisted the Sultana, and she was pleased to see Kan-E find someone she could freely speak her troubles to, just as Nanamo had Raubahn.

It was supposed to _stay_ at that level, Kan-E insists to herself whenever she recalls that conversation with the General and the Sultana. But something unforeseen occurred. Something Kan-E, in all her calm, could not control; she despised it terribly. In those recent meetings, each time she and the Admiral spoke true to each other, it was as if her very heart was set ablaze. She could feel everything more keenly, speak more clearly, yet at the same time, a strange fog overcame her when Merlwyb had said something that especially resonated with her, or when she would stare out into the horizon and speak truly to Kan-E.

She reaches towards one of the books in a moment of weakness, peruses a page or two, and shakes her head to herself. Alone in the lavish, Gridanian-style tent with naught but the stillness and silence of the truce for company, she cannot help but smile at these saccharine soliloquies, filled with a hollow nostalgia.

If only she had known herself better. If only she had been more like her sister and wondered what it felt like to fall in love. Then perhaps she wouldn’t be so conflicted…and perhaps she wouldn’t be imagining herself in the arms of the Admiral as if the latter was her knight.

She is thankful, at least, she has the decency to present herself as she usually does to Merlwyb, and not like the lovelorn maidens in these old tales.

Raya-O not being present here is yet another thing to be thankful for…she cannot imagine how her sister would react if she were to tell her that she was right all along, that they were a new generation of Padjal, and perhaps even they could love how they chose to.

With the first of the tomes still in her grasp, she leaves her desk behind for the comfort of the long, cushioned sofa and the little tea table her soldiers had set for her. Their kindness knows no bounds, she thinks. They never have to do this for her, and yet they always treat her as hospitably as they can despite the harsh conditions the Alliance was facing.

A thought occurs to her. The Admiral is in the next camp over.

There’s a little bit of lukewarm chamomile tea left on the table. She wonders if the Admiral can sleep, knowing just as little as Kan-E does about the Empire’s intentions. She imagines inviting the Admiral for tea. They always do find time at these odd hours to talk of everything and nothing.

Kan-E is trying to focus on the poetry on the pages, but the Admiral is still there in her mind. She doesn’t particularly like how that feels. She has tried time and time again to control it, but the Admiral always comes back, whether in her imagination or at the negotiating table.

Yet another thought occurs to her: it’s always Merlwyb that approaches her first whenever they meet. Could it be that perhaps she, too, has some sort of interest in Kan-E? Was that even possible? Would it be remiss of her to ask?

This behavior—this entire train of thought—is extremely inappropriate. Eorzea’s strongest are fighting for their lives out in the Ghimlyt Dark, and here she is, flushed over her old friend. Perhaps it would be better to retire for the evening, before it gets any worse. She has kept her emotions at bay for this long, and there was no reason for them to suddenly grow stronger.

…Or was that what falling in love was supposed to feel like? It was nothing like the tomes had written it, that was for certain. In Kan-E’s defense, however, she has never read any epic depicting romances between women…though she realizes such a thing is not so uncommon these days.

The stillness of the tent is suddenly broken by a few muffled voices from the front, a few yalms away. Her Entwined Serpent guard is speaking with someone, and the voice he responds to is the last one she wished to hear tonight.

It _is_ always Merlwyb that approaches her first.

The Entwined Serpent guard slowly peers into the tent, finding the Elder Seedseer still awake, the book held tightly in her hands. Kan-E nearly slammed it shut again upon his entering.

“My lady, I apologize for disturbing you at such a time, but you’ve a guest.”

“…Admiral Merlwyb?”

“Yes, my lady, it is.”

“I have little I can offer her, but if she is come for company, I can, at least, provide her such as I am able.”

“I shall tell her, my lady,” said the guard, closing the heavy cover of the tent as his voice grows muffled again from the other side. A hushed conversation occurs, and in mere moments, another figure steps through her curtains…one much taller than the last.

“You cannot sleep either, I take it?” Merlwyb asks, making her way towards Kan-E.

Kan-E stands to greet her, placing her book on the table, “It is rare that I am afforded such a luxury at a time like this…but it is a pleasure to greet you all the same, Admiral.”

“With the Garleans at our doorstep, I do not blame you,” Merlwyb smirks, “Tidings being what they are, I hope you’ll excuse me for the intrusion.”

“Your presence is always a welcome one,” Kan-E cannot help but smile back, “You may stay as long as you wish.”

Merlwyb sits at the other end of couch with her, and Kan-E finds it difficult to look directly at her. It’s that fog again.

“We are fortunate, at least, to have had the Warriors of Light to win us the day,” Kan-E added, “But I know not how many more days those two can endure.”

“Aye,” Merlwyb sighed, “Their power is great, yet they are still but two young women. I doubt not that even they have their own limits.”

“That is precisely why I worry,” Kan-E replies, “They and the Scions have remained by our side for all we have endured. But the callings have grown ever more frequent. If they, too, are called along with their colleagues, I worry for what will become of us... I had hoped the whispers of the Elementals would speak of the future, or of what battles may next await…but even the voices of our Great Ones have all gone silent. They are just as uncertain as us.”

“It has been quite some time since we’ve fought without a Warrior of Light in our ranks,” Merlwyb crosses her arms, “The two of them have sacrificed much for our sake, yet we’ve little to offer them in return.”

“One fights under my banners,” Kan-E reminds herself, “while the other fights under yours. I share the same concern. If I recall, it is not only their fates that have bound them to the Alliance. Their love of country stirs them to fight on.”

“I fear what will happen if one is called away… The other may not find the will to fight for us any longer.” Merlwyb admits, sighing and shaking her head, “Have we truly grown so craven that we cannot guarantee our victory without them?”

Kan-E sits in silence, taking it all in. Merlwyb looks away, but Kan-E still notices the grey patches under the Admiral’s eyes, the very same fatigue and anxiety that plagued the Elder Seedseer’s mind. The Admiral has much more to say, she feels, but she utters no more than what Kan-E is given.

“There is little other choice…” Kan-E thought aloud, “Should the worst occur, we must prepare for a battle without them. I would imagine the rest of the Alliance is planning for the very same.”

“I have no objections to charging into the front lines in their place,” Merlwyb tells her, “I am no Warrior of Light, but I shall stand firm against whatever storm may come our way. I would gladly give my life if it would rid the world of those gods-forsaken Garleans.”

Kan-E tensed as those last few words left the Admiral’s lips. There was something in her mind that pulled at her, wanted to selfishly tell her dear friend she mustn’t be so rash, she mustn’t give her life, for who else would she love?

She chose instead to fight selfishness with selflessness.

“If it comes to that,” Kan-E averts her gaze, worried for what she is about to say, “I would gladly follow you to the Seventh Hell.”

Merlwyb holds back a laugh or two, “You, in the Seventh Hell? I highly doubt that.”

“What value is there in dying if I cannot follow my companions?” Kan-E surprises herself with the question, smiling all the same, “What good will the heavens do me if you are not there by my side?”

The Admiral’s expression softens, but Kan-E realizes it is more out of sadness than of any sort of kindness or pity.

“Look at us,” Merlwyb rubs her temples, “planning our own deaths as if they are already written.”

“I apologize, I…” Kan-E trails off, unsure of how she would have even replied to that. Was she truly prepared to die just because the Warriors of Light would be absent for their conflict with the Empire? Had they truly become so dependent on them?

“I would still choose to follow you into battle,” Kan-E insists without thinking, “and grant you whatever succor I am able. That much I am capable of.”

Kan-E’s eyes wander towards the book she left on the table, and her thoughts turn sour and passionate again. She imagines herself as the knight, as juvenile as it was. She would gladly lay down her life for the Admiral, though she did not have the heart to say such a thing aloud.

Merlwyb finally finds Kan-E’s gaze again after her remark.

“Of all the things this Alliance has given me,” the Admiral says, “I must admit that you have been among the most surprising. Your looks deceive you, Kan-E; your will is far stronger than I ever would have imagined when we first met.”

The Padjal’s heart is set alight again as Merlwyb places her hand on top of Kan-E’s.

“I would be glad of your company,” the Admiral assures her—there’s a hint of that familiar, brave expression of hers in her eyes, “whether we find ourselves in the battlefield or the Seventh Hell.”

Kan-E can no longer face her companion anymore, and her gaze shoots from her hand, back to the Admiral, to the book at her side, back to her hand again… She is searching for the right answer, the most composed answer, but everything she wants to say in this moment is too much, it would break the calm she has worked so hard to preserve in these few moments.

Merlwyb senses her reaction, however, and gently places Kan-E’s hand back. They are both silent for a moment, until the Admiral can find the right words to answer her actions with.

“We shall not die so easily, you and I,” she assures Kan-E, “I apologize if I alarmed you.”

Kan-E shakes her head, gaining back her calm, “It is reassuring to know we share the same fears…and that you would speak of them to me.”

She doesn’t know what possesses her to do so, but she finds herself placing her hand on the Admiral’s this time, as if she doesn’t want to let that moment go, even if it causes her to lose herself… She does not know what will happen in the coming days, after all. Her face burns as the words manage to leave her.

“I shall remain by your side, Admiral,” Kan-E smiles at her, “for as long as time allows it.”

Kan-E could swear she’d seen a tinge of red on Merlwyb’s face, and her chest begins to tighten with a tension she desperately wishes she could get rid of. But Merlwyb does not falter like Kan-E does—in fact, the Admiral relaxes her posture ever so slightly.

“Why we’ve become so drawn to each other, I shall never know,” the Admiral laughs, “You would have been much better off wanting to offer your abilities to someone less reckless. I cannot guarantee your safety as the Lord Commander or Lord Hien could. I am not so chivalrous, I’m afraid.”

“You are…drawn to me, Admiral?” Kan-E asks her, barely audible. A part of her hopes Merlwyb does not hear it, but it is too quiet everywhere else. The Admiral hears it all the same.

Merlwyb smirks, no longer hiding the fatigue in her eyes, “Your fear of the future has given way to courage, I see.”

Kan-E shakes her head, and motions to the book on the table, “I have read one too many tales of knights and their vows.”

“I am no knight,” Merlwyb playfully raises an eyebrow, not fully understanding what Kan-E is trying to tell her.

Suddenly, she can hear her sister’s voice again, asking the same innocent questions that she never had the answers to. She repositions herself closer to the Admiral, wrapping her arms around the larger woman, gently resting her head on Merlwyb's chest—to which the latter does not at all reject. She returns the gesture, in fact, wrapping her arms around Kan-E’s small waist. The Padjal’s throat grows dry and she feels almost faint at the mere thought of what she’s trying to do. She loses the will to speak as Merlwyb holds her close, not once weakening her grip.

“…I know not what will become of either of us after this battle,” Kan-E tries to reason with the Admiral, her emotions spilling over, “Forgive me.”

Merlwyb gently lets her go, seeming to understand the deeper meaning behind those simple words.

“I should be the one asking you your forgiveness,” Merlwyb murmurs, a sad smile on her face as she leans in and places her hand on Kan-E’s cheek, “…What have I done to you?”

Kan-E doesn’t have an answer she can put into words—instead, she closes the gap between them, cautiously pressing her lips against the Admiral’s. Her entire body seems to shiver now that it’s gotten its answer, now that Kan-E knows she is capable of feeling this much emotion. Thankfully, Merlwyb doesn’t let go of her, either; she instead pulls the Padjal in closer for more, the latter welcoming the Admiral’s advances.

They run out of breath, their foreheads against each other’s, blissfully baffled by such an odd outcome. Kan-E realizes this is completely unbecoming for someone of her stature—but she has come too far to give up what may be her last opportunity to express herself.

The two women come to their senses, still silent, looking into the other’s tired eyes as if they’re seeing each other again for the first time in years. Without so much as a thought, Kan-E’s gaze falls to the buttons on the front of her dress as she guides the Admiral’s hand towards them.

“Merlwyb,” Kan-E whispers, “Would you grant me this selfish request…?”

The Admiral’s hand moves slightly over, towards Kan-E’s pounding heart. She gently touches the pale exposed skin of her chest, and eventually makes her way back down to the buttons. Kan-E’s chest is slowly laid bare by every button undone. Merlwyb leans in to kiss her again as Kan-E lays down to receive her, her hair slowly coming undone.

Everything begins to fade into the Admiral’s warmth, and the last thing she remembers is Merlwyb undoing the final clasp on her dress, their lips still pressed against each other’s.

If either of them must die in battle, she thinks, then let them die knowing they had been lovers. Let her die knowing that that the stalwart Admiral had loved her well.


End file.
